


Two's A Party, Three's Just Plain Old Fun

by Hallianna



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/F, F/M, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallianna/pseuds/Hallianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Isabela wants is for Hawke to have a good birthday, so she takes her friend to the Blooming Rose.  But Hawke should know by now - Isabela is one sneaky, conniving pirate and the tricks she's got up her sleeves (or, down her pants, in this case), don't just involve buying Hawke a whore for her birthday.  Especially since Hawke's had a hard time not thinking about the debonair elf assassin they'd met a while back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two's A Party, Three's Just Plain Old Fun

**Author's Note:**

> No clue where this fic came from - just a fun little distraction from my multi-chapter crossover fic. Enjoy!

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No, honestly, Isabela….”

“Yes, yes, and yes!”

A hard shove sent Hawke stumbling into the front door of the Blooming Rose.  A few patrons turned their heads to see the Champion of Kirkwall doing a rather undignified backpedal, only to bump into the unmoving form of the notorious Rivaini pirate.  

If they’d been braver souls, they may have let out a chuckle at the sight of the Champion’s red face and the wicked sounding chortle Isabela let out.  But no one dared.  They prefered to stay whole and enjoy the many pleasures of Kirkwall’s famous brothel.

“Now,” Isabela said as she pushed Hawke through the door, “let’s get you the best the Madam Lusine has to offer, hmm?”

“Isabela, no, please,” Hawke said as she desperately grabbed at Isabela’s hands, which were wrapped tightly around her shoulders.  She tried to spin so she could peel Isabela’s fingers from her, but Isabela just pressed up against her back so she couldn’t move.

“This is my birthday present to you, sweet thing.  In Rivain, when someone offers to buy you a whore for your birthday, you don’t refuse.  You show up in just your smallclothes and your best smile and ask, ‘Where’s the booty?’ ” the pirate cackled in her ear as they walked onto the bustling floor of the Blooming Rose.  The sounds of conversation, low murmurs punctuated by the occasional high pitched laugh or rumbling chuckle, swelled around them and Hawke barely heard Isabela say, “It’s also my apology for leaving.”

Isabela’s insistent shoves put Hawke front and center where she could be eyed by Madam Lusine.  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Champion of Kirkwall.”  The Madam cocked an eyebrow.  “How may I be of service today?”

Isabela leaned forward and tipped several sovereigns into the woman’s palm.  “Whatever she wants, no skimping on your best people,” she said.  “It’s her birthday.”

Lusine’s eyes grew large as she examined the gold in her hand.  “Of course, of course.”  She waved a hand at the people behind her.  “This buys you our best, three times over.  And my best room.”

“And all the extras,” Isabela said as she flipped another coin at Lusine.

“No!” Hawke said, her voice rising above the murmur of the people around them.  “No, Isabela, I don’t need this.”

Isabela smiled tightly at Lusine.  “Give us a moment, would you?” She nodded at the pile of sovereigns she’d just handed over.  “But that still pays, got it?”  

And she pulled Hawke over to an empty corner.  Hawke found herself shoved against the wall, Isabela bearing down on her with a finger pointed in her face.  “Now you listen to me, Hawke.  I’m trying to apologize here.  I really am.  I want to do something for you and it’s very clear to me that you are in need of some serious stress relief right now.”  She shrugged, a grin on her face.  “And I’m seeing a lot of lonely nights and an empty bed in your fancy Hightown mansion.”  She pulled back and tapped her chin in thought.  “In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you with anyone.  Ever.”

Hawke flushed at that and tried to wave Isabela off.  “Of course I’ve been with people.”  At Isabela’s smirk, she added quietly, “Just not recently.”

That made Isabela laugh.  “You know, I did think that you and Fenris had something going-”

“He and I aren’t exactly compatible,” Hawke said, cutting her off.  “Me being a mage and all.”

“Well, his loss,” she replied, leaning closer.  “Because you’re far too pretty to be wasted on that elf.”

Hawke scoffed.  “I thought you liked Fenris.”

Isabela smiled, the expression lighting up her features.  “Oh, I can appreciate his beauty.  Those markings, that scowl, those pretty eyes of his.  But what fun would he be once you got him alone?  Would he be afraid of you?  Would he want to even touch you?”

Hawke gaped at her.  “How did you know that?”

The pirate ran a finger over Hawke’s cheek.  “Because I know you, Hawke.  All those worries would have flitted around in your mind and eventually you would have convinced yourself that somehow, it was all your fault.”  She jerked her head back to where Madam Lusine was waiting expectantly.  “Let yourself have this, Hawke.  This isn’t the ‘nasty’ or ‘disgusting’ place some people make it out to be.”

“Says the woman who comes here on a weekly basis.”

“You give me too much credit.  I’m too busy following you around to be here every week.  It may be every other.”

They both laughed at that.  Hawke let her head rest against the wall for a moment and eyed Isabela carefully.  “This really means that much to you?”

“It’s not about me, Hawke.”

“Isn’t it?”  Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, metal wrist guards clanking against the decorations on her leather robes.  “I mean, I know you’re doing this for me and that’s sweet, if not a little misguided, but...it means something to you too.”

“No, stop right there,” Isabela chided, shaking a finger at her friend.  “You don’t get to do that.”  She tugged on Hawke’s arm.  “Come on, Hawke.  Let’s pick you out someone special to make you forget everything.”

 

* * *

 

Isabela smacked a hand into her forehead.  “Why does this have to be so hard?”

Hawke turned to her, a flush gracing her cheeks.  “I can’t help it.  They’re just not-”

“Not what?”  She smirked as a shirtless elf with red hair and bright green eyes smiled at her from across the room.  “Please don’t tell me you don’t find any of them attractive.”

Hawke sighed.   _Maker, this was hard_.  It might have been different if Isabela had offered this to her on one of her lonely nights, when it felt like her own skin was too hot to the touch and nothing she did - long baths, tawdry romance novels (some of which she knew were penned by Varric), the touch of her own hand - helped.  But she looked around the room now and saw all the flesh on display, all the coy smiles tossed around so freely like they meant nothing and she wanted - she wanted -

She wanted someone to touch her like she meant something other than a source of coin and a piece of willing, wanton flesh looking for a few moments of pleasure.  “It’s not that, Isabela,” she whispered as a pair of scantily clad women sashayed by, “but-”

“You feel cheap,” Isabela finished.  “I get it. I do.  But Hawke, please, for me, just do this.”  She smiled suddenly and grabbed Hawke’s hand.  “And besides, I have a surprise for you, one I know you’ll appreciate.”

“Oh, Isabela, I don’t think I can take another one of your surprises.”

“This one you’ll like.  Trust me.”

Isabela drug Hawke up the stairs, ignoring the mage’s protests.  They went left, then right down a hallway Hawke had never had the occasion to walk before and stopped outside a closed door.  Hawke put a hand on the oak door, a warding gesture meant to hold Isabela off, and woman just smiled and shoved her inside the room.

The room smelled of incense and vanilla, sweet and slightly musky.  The scent reminded her of Isabela, Hawke thought as she was pushed rather roughly into the candlelit room.  The door closed behind them and Hawke looked around frantically, trying to find the person Isabela thought she would “enjoy”.

_Maker save me, if she thinks this is a game…._

“I have to say, I’m disappointed,” Isabela said.  Hawke whirled and saw the pirate leaning against the door, a small smile on her pretty face. “I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

Hawke’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “What are you talking abo-”  She turned her head, eyes darting about the room, and realization struck her like an arrow to the head.  “Oh.”

“Oh is right.”  Isabela uncurled her body from the door and walked towards Hawke, all grace and power.  “I do know you, Hawke.”  She came closer, noticing how Hawke was rooted to her spot in the middle of the huge room.  “I know how much you care about everyone.  How much you want to save everyone.”  She stopped as she came within inches of the dark-haired woman in front of her and, saying a silent prayer to one of the many gods she’d encountered on her travels, whispered, “I know how much you deny yourself anything that could be considered pleasurable.”  

She cupped Hawke’s face, gaze lingering on the woman’s mouth, and said, “We’ve flirted.  We’ve talked.  We’ve gone on raids and killed bad guys and saved people, right?  We work well together, Hawke.  You let me be who I am, but you don’t scold me for my choices either.”  Her thumb traced Hawke’s cheekbone and she felt Hawke freeze under her touch.  “And under that sweet exterior, I know you have a wicked streak.  And a sense of humor.  I’ve seen it, sweet thing.  Heard it too, when you’re playing cards with Varric and Anders and you’ve had a little too much to drink.”  

Hawke bit her lip.  “It’s probably too late for me to protest that one.”  When Isabela grinned and shook her head, Hawke took a deep breath, trying not to be distracted by Isabela’s hands on her face and gaze on her mouth, and asked, “So what made you think this little plan of yours would work?”

Isabela just kept grinning.  “I knew you wouldn’t take to any of the whores here, even if I begged you to do it for yourself, just once.”  She tossed her head back.  “But if it was just me and you in a big room all to ourselves, no prying eyes or dwarf servant ears to hear us?  Well, I figured that might just do it.”

A flurry of emotions flitted over Hawke’s face and Isabela saw them all, but when Hawke looked at her with dark eyes, her lips slightly parted, she couldn’t help but say, “I’m taking that as a yes?”

“You’re talking an awful lot,” Hawke replied in a low voice as she wrapped her arms around Isabela.  “I’ve never known you to be so chatty in situations like this.”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying, just for you,” Isabela whispered as she pulled Hawke to her.  “You didn’t answer me.”

“Yes,” Hawke breathed, “Maker, yes.”

Isabela grabbed the front of Hawke’s robes and kissed her with everything she had. _I’ve been waiting seven years for this_ , she thought giddily as Hawke melted against her.

 

* * *

 

Oh, she’d missed this - being kissed, being pressed up against another person who clearly wanted her.  The smooth slide of lips, the tangling of tongues, roaming hands digging into her hair and caressing her back….

Isabela was turning her into a puddle just by kissing her.  

Hawke couldn’t stop the moan she let out, even if she wanted to.  But Isabela didn’t seem to mind; in fact, she hummed in appreciation at the sound as the pirate continued to kiss her senseless.  Hawke felt hands gently pushing her backwards and the next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the bed and Isabela was standing above her, smiling brightly.

“Told you you’d enjoy this,” she said in a husky whisper.  “Not going to stop me, are you?”

Hawke quickly shook her head, which made Isabela laugh.  There was no way in Thedas she’d stop now.  She could feel the blood almost burning in her veins, like her need was threatening to tear her apart from the inside out if she didn’t let Isabela strip her naked right then.

She definitely wasn’t going to argue about anything Isabela wanted to do at this point.

A sharp knock at the door, followed by the creak of hinges and swift footsteps interrupted Hawke’s thoughts and she pulled herself up to see a familiar sharp-angled face appear inside the entryway.  “Oh, it looks like I’m interrupting.  Do carry on.”

Isabela turned and waved in the elf, who came to stand beside her.  Zevran gazed down at Hawke’s slightly disheveled appearance - mussed hair, red lips, slightly wild eyes - and clucked his tongue.  “Isabela, you told me you wouldn’t begin the debauching until I got here.  Have I missed all the fun already?”

“If you had, Hawke and I wouldn’t be clothed,” Isabela said as she snuggled close to Zevran.  “Hawke, you remember Zevran, right?”

Hawke cast a wary glance at the elf.  “Part of your plan, I’m assuming?”

Isabela shrugged and reached over to toy with one of Zevran’s braids.  “Well, you did flirt with him while we were running around trying to get rid of the Crows.  And you wouldn’t join us when he offered, even though I could tell you wanted to.  So I convinced Zevran to stay an extra day in the city.”

“She said I might just get the chance to see what was underneath those robes of yours,” Zevran said, his voice practically a purr as he stared at Hawke.  “I must admit, it was a very tempting thought.  Though she did have to convince me a little more.”

“I’m sure,” Hawke said, shooting Isabela a look the pirate knew all too well.  Isabela simply beamed at her.  Sighing, Hawke sat up on the bed and eyed the assassin carefully.  “How exactly would this work, the three of us?”

Isabela slugged Zevran in the shoulder.  “See, I told you she’d go for it.”

Zevran sidestepped Isabela and knelt before Hawke, raising her hand to kiss it.  “It works however you want it to.  Isabela tells me that you have….gone without for quite some time.”  His lips lingered on her skin but his eyes bore into hers, the heat of his stare stealing her breath.  “I would make it whatever you wanted, my dear Champion.  Your desire is my command.”

Isabela fanned a hand in front of her face.  “Oof, he’s good.”

“Isabela, hush,” Hawke said as she tried to focus on Zevran, who was still kneeling in front of her but had moved slightly, placing him just between her legs.  It was subtle, that shift of movement, but it stole her breath a little.  He was so close to her, close enough that she could smell the brandy on his breath and that distinctive scent of aged leather and spice that it seemed like every Antivan she’d encountered wore.  

But he wore it oh so well and she was - she _needed_.   _Wanted.  Maker, did she ever._

“And there it is,” Zevran whispered as he rose to his knees.  His hands ran up her thighs and she couldn’t help but let him part her legs so he could slide between them.  Out of the corner of her eye, Hawke saw Isabela move like a shadow to her right.  The bed dipped and then there were hands playing at the nape of her neck.  Her scarf fluttered to the floor and the same hands gently ran down her skin.

Hawke hissed at the contact and instinctively shifted forward, bringing her straight into Zevran’s arms.  “We still work so well together, Isabela,” he crooned as he steadied Hawke.  “But, to my credit, I may have taken that ‘your desire is my command’ line from a Grey Warden who is now too busy being king to notice.”  He pushed Hawke’s chin up with a finger and looked straight into her eyes.  “It still works though, no?”

“Most definitely,” Hawke said right before she grabbed the back of his head and slanted her lips over his.  She barely heard Isabela’s joyful whoop and she definitely didn’t feel the pirate’s hands playing around the buckles on her robes as she tried to kiss Zevran senseless.

Zevran kissed like he killed - with exquisite skill applied in a careful and thorough manner that left no detail unattended.  While his lips and tongue were busy battling hers for dominance, one hand wove in her hair and the other slid to cup her clothed breast.  Hawke gasped against his lips and Zevran used the opportunity to slide his mouth down, tongue flicking out against her jaw and pulse.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Isabela whispered into her ear.  Hawke whimpered a response, making Isabela chuckle.  The last buckle came free and Hawke felt her robes loosen in a way that made her start.  Her head jerked up and her hands moved to stop the freefall of her clothes but Isabela grabbed them and put them behind her back.  “I don’t think so, Hawke.”

Of course, her robes didn't fall off of their own accord, but a few seconds under Zevran’s quick hands made it seem like they did.  In nothing but her smallclothes, Hawke found herself at the mercy of a dark-eyed pirate queen and a smirking elf assassin who looked at her like she was the best thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

Hawke swallowed hard, found her courage (which was buried somewhere underneath the fire in her veins and the tinge of fear at the back of her throat), and asked, “So, which one of you do I get first?  Or does the birthday girl get both of you at the same time?”

Elf and pirate looked at each other for a moment and then equally evil smiles spread over their faces.  “Your desire is our command,” Zevran said as he dropped his daggers to the floor.

“Anything you want, Hawke,” Isabela replied, pulling off her greaves and letting them fall.

“Lucky me,” Hawke said, eyes never leaving them as they undressed in front of her.

“Enough talk, my dear Champion.”  Completely naked, Zevran stalked to the bed and loomed over her.  Isabela came up behind him, just as naked, and wrapped an arm around him. “Now, what do you think, Isabela?”

“I think we should make her say our names, Zevran,” Isabela purred in his ear, making the elf grin.

Zevran ran a light hand over Hawke’s stomach and watched the muscles there flutter under his touch.  “We must go easy on her,” he said, turning his head for a quick kiss.  “She is not used to such….vigorous attentions.”

Hawke let out a small noise of frustration and yanked on Zevran’s arm, bringing both pirate and assassin down on the bed in a heap of limbs.  “Just touch me,” she growled, senses overwhelmed by all the warm flesh pressed against her.  “Please, both of you.”

Isabela pulled her head up from where it had landed by Hawke’s shoulder to smile smugly at Zevran.  “You heard her.”

“I did indeed.”  Zevran bent his head to press a kiss to Hawke’s throat, making the mage squirm.  “Now, Hawke, I must ask….do you know the true meaning of the phrase ‘silver-tongued’?”  
  


* * *

 

_One hour later_

 

“Fuck, Zevran!”

“Isabela, please!”

“Oh….. _Hawke_.”

 

* * *

 

_Three hours later_

 

Isabela pointed a shaky finger at Hawke.  “You.”

Hawke grinned and wiggled her fingers.  “Mage, Isabela.  Or did you forget?”

Zevran let out a low chuckle, the sound coming from around the foot of the bed (where he had collapsed a few minutes ago), and said, “It seems we underestimated you, my dear Hawke.”

Hawke just smiled and closed her eyes as Isabela snuggled next to her.  She felt the bed shift and then Zevran’s warmth settled on her other side.  “Never bet a mage they can’t do something, Zevran.  Chances are, we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Zevran cracked an eye open.  “Promises, promises.”

“Got something in mind?”

Zevran rolled over and pressed her into the bed with a wicked grin.  “In fact, I do.”

 

* * *

 

_Four and a half hours later_

 

“I’m never moving, ever again.”

Isabela cackled.  “That would be a pity.  Who else would save this stinking city from its problems?”

Hawke waved a hand at her and snorted into the pillow.  “Don’t care.  Let them sort it all out on their own.  I’m done.”

Zevran hummed under his breath as he pressed his hands into the muscles of Hawke’s back.  “You could run away with me.”

“Very funny.”

“Do I sound as if I am joking?”

Hawke stilled under his hands.  Her head came up so she could look at him.  “Are you serious?”

“Pretty sure he is, Hawke.”  Isabela waved a hand in the elf’s direction.  “That’s a look I’ve only seen on his face one other time.  And he was deadly serious then.”

Zevran slid to the side so Hawke could roll over.  She looked at him and saw no traces of amusement in his eyes - no, he was very serious.  “I can’t,” she said.

“You can, both of you,” he replied as he pulled her close and began pressing kisses to her throat.  “Leave this place.  Leave it behind.  Come with me, Hawke.”  His mouth slid lower, whispering over the tops of her breasts and despite herself, she sighed.  He pulled a nipple between his lips and tugged gently, making her cry out.  

“Not fair, arguing like this,” Hawke panted.  Another set of lips began assaulting her other breast and she moaned, hands gripping the sheets, back arching.

“What makes you think either of us play fair?” Isabela asked.

 

* * *

 

“Did someone spit in your ale, Varric?”

Varric’s brow furrowed.  “What?”

Anders leaned forward and pointed to the dwarf’s mug.  “Your ale.  It’s the only reason I can think of as to why you keep making that face.”

“Very funny, Blondie.”  He looked around The Hanged Man, eyes darting to the door.  “It’s just strange that Hawke and Isabela aren’t here yet.  Hawke’s never late for Wicked Grace and it seems like Isabela hardly leaves this place.”

Anders shrugged.  “Maybe they’re at Hawke’s house.  You know how Isabela gets when she starts talking Hawke’s ear off.”

Varric’s brow furrowed again.  “Maybe.”

“You’re making that face again, Varric.”

Varric glared at him.  “I’m going to go look for them.”

“Look for who?”  Merrill came up to the table, mug in hand, and sat beside Varric.  “Is someone lost?”

“Varric’s worried about Hawke and Isabela,” Anders said in explanation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be worried, Varric,” Merrill said.  “I saw them earlier.”

“How much earlier?” Varric asked before he took a sip of ale.

Merrill paused to think, and then replied, “A few hours.  They went into The Blooming Rose.”

Varric spat out his ale, right into Anders’ face.  “What?”

Merrill nodded.  “I thought it was strange, too, since Hawke never goes there unless she has to.  But she went in with Isabela.”

Anders wiped a hand down his face.  “Still want to go look for them?”

Varric’s face was a blank mask for a moment before the expression broke and he started to chuckle.  “No, no, I’m good.  Oh, that is priceless.”  He slid out from his chair and started toward the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Merrill asked, curious eyes following him.

“To get a pen!  I need to write this down.”

 

* * *

 

Zevran did the last buckle on his armor and turned to face the two women.  “My ladies, it has been….well, it’s been more than a pleasure.”  He smiled widely.  “Trust me when I say this has been an evening I will remember for the rest of my life.”

Isabela nudged Hawke’s shoulder with her own and grinned.  “I’m already thinking up several ways we can bump into each other again, Zevran.”

Zevran stepped closer to Hawke and cupped her face in his hands.  “My offer still stands, Hawke.  Come with me.  You and Isabela can leave this city and roam Thedas and not worry about what goes on here.”

Hawke smiled, but the expression had a tinge of sadness to it.  “I wish I could, Zevran.  I want to, Maker knows I do.  But I can’t abandon my friends, and my brother is still here.”  She reached up to stroke his cheek.  “I’m sorry, Zevran.”

“Oh, do not apologize, my dear Champion,” he said, chuckling before he kissed her.  He pulled back and said quietly, “Do not apologize at all.  I am guessing I will not walk right for the next few days.  Let’s hope the Crows stay away for a while, hmm?”

That made Hawke laugh and she pulled him in for another kiss, this one lazier and with more tongue.  “I will miss you,” she said against his lips.

“Fear not, Hawke,” he said as he pulled back to smile at her.  “I will be around, of that I am sure.”

His goodbye to Isabela was equally amorous, but with fewer words.  Before he left the room, he turned and said, “Do me a favor, Isabela.  Take care of her, would you?”

And then he was gone.

Isabela faced Hawke, the smile slowly slipping off her face.  They stared at each other for a long moment before the pirate finally said, “Enjoy your birthday, Hawke?”

Hawke grabbed the front of Isabela’s armor and brought them nose to nose.  “Couldn’t have been better.”  She brushed the hair back from Isabela’s face and said with a small smile, “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Isabela.”

Isabela returned the smile.  “Looks like.”

“Think you can deal with that?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

 


End file.
